


Not Willing To Pay That Price- SFW

by Kermit_Hermit



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fluff, Johnny has a thing for dangerous woman like Geralt does, Johnny is 22, Johnny would absolutely worship his lover if he wasn't such an asshole, No Angst, No P0rn in this one, No Smut, Older Woman/Younger Man, Only good things here, Safe For Work, Talking about Johnny's preem cock, There is some dirty talk between friends about Johnny's abilities in bed, There is still swearing in it, V has crude af friends, V is 31, V is an established merc in NC, V is the Chevalier, V is the Queen of Mercs, Young Johnny Silverhand, just know they swear, poetic Johnny, probably others - Freeform, sfw, soft body worship tones but just poetic, they deserve a soft epilogue, words used are fuck-prick-damn-pussy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:53:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29745954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kermit_Hermit/pseuds/Kermit_Hermit
Summary: This is a Safe For Work version of my explicit fic 'Not Willing To Pay That Price' for those of you who want fluff without the fux.--Rockerboy legend Johnny Silverhand is saved from dying at the hands of some gangers and now owes The Chevalier- the Queen of Mercs -a life debt. She can demand anything from him.All she asks for is a private show.--For context, this takes place a few years before Johnny meets Alt. V is an established merc in Night City and is the top dog.
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/V
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Private Show

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Safe For Work version of my explicit fic 'Not Willing To Pay That Price' for those of you who want fluff without the fux.
> 
> My friend asked me for a SFW version of my fic so I edited out the more jalapeno bits.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> **V's handle is pronounced [shuh-val-yey]**
> 
> \--  
> NOTE FROM ORIGINAL POST OF NSFW VERSION
> 
> I have been reading great fics by the amazing Ravenstrange and Ruruie and they inspired me to write my own stories. This is a shorter fic that I wrote while taking a creative break from my long fic that takes place during the canon. I wanted to try out a dynamic with an older, mature V and younger Johnny. A Johnny that hadn't been through the trauma of losing his 'true love' and was able to grow into a man that had a purpose instead of just hate. I'd love to see what you all think of the dynamic I crafted. Thank you once again to Ravenstrange and Ruruie for being inspirations for me to take back up fanfic!

Johnny wasn’t a stranger to fistfights. He could handle himself one-on-one or even five-on-one brawls but this time he was outnumbered and pretty sure he’d left his knife back in his Porsche.

Even with Rogue backing him up they were getting the shit beat outta them.

“Fuckin’ prick! Go down already!” Rogue raged as she flung herself at the huge gangoon she’d been tangling with for too long.

Johnny had managed to take down three gangers before one of them caught him in the stomach with a blade. Now he was hunch to one side so he didn’t rip himself in half and spill his guts all over the street.

He grunted as his metal fist connected with a gangers face, the recoil making his side scream. Swerved out of the way just in time as a katana blade swiped right where his head had been. His gun was outta ammo- Rogue’s too or she’d be using it- and he was bleeding out. 

He was pretty sure they were fucked.

  


BANG BANG BANG

  


Three shots rang out and three gangers stumbled and fell, zeroed like they were nothing. Johnny held his side closed with sticky fingers, panting hard, and glanced at where the bullets had come from.

A woman strode towards him. The embodiment of Night City herself. Backlit by the neon sign of the bar, she looked like an angel of revenge come to burn the city to the ground. Her silver gun glinted in the light, flashing dangerously as she brought it up to line up her next kill. She didn’t walk. She god-damn prowled.

She looked ready to start a war. 

Johnny’s mouth went dry.

The woman cut across the parking lot on a mission, making her way straight towards him, one-shot-ing gangers with each step she took. Eyes like flint and face raging like a Texas storm, all lighting and wind and sheets of rain that blocked out the view for miles.

Fucking breathtaking. 

She put herself between him in the gangers protectively and Johnny had to let her. His side burned like a fucker and he was starting the think maybe he had some internal bleeding or some shit. His eyesight was going a bit fuzzy at the edges.

The woman ended the fight for them. 

Zeroed the ganger before he got Rogue and cleaned up the rest like she was the patron saint of death, standing between him and the horseman looking to claim his soul.

Johnny had never seen anything like her before. When she turned to him, he tried to say something.

Opened his mouth to talk, be the smooth rockerboy he was, and hacked up half a lung. His knees buckled and he felt her grab his metal arm to keep him from cracking his face on the ground as he passed out. 

  


  


  


—

  


  


  


Johnny woke up in a ripperdoc’s place and had no fucking clue who’s it was. He groaned as he sat up, holding his aching side.

“Johnny you’re awake!” Rogue rushed over and helped him sit up.

“Where-?” He choked then coughed so hard he bent in half. Rogue rubbed a hand on his upper back.

When the fit subsided, she handed him a cup of water that he sipped at gratefully, feeling a small relief as it cooled his burning throat. Rogue’s arm was bandaged but otherwise, she looked fine.

“We’re at the ripperdoc inside Haven,” Rogue answered. Something in her voice tipped him off that she was uncomfortable.

“What’s wrong?” He croaked, trying to make his eyes focus on her face.

Rogue looked caught. She bit her lip, glancing away from him. 

“Our gonk asses got saved.”

Johnny frowned. That wasn’t why she was fidgeting like she had something crawling in her skin. Rogue didn’t get spooked. Not that he’d ever seen and they’d been running gigs together for a few months now.

“The fuck is wrong Rogue?” He demanded and it would have sounded more impressive if it didn’t rip at his throat and make him cough up his guts again. Rogue rubbed his back till he was done. He shrugged her off. 

“Damn Johnny, fucking fine,” she snapped, “We owe the fucking Chevalier our lives. She’d the one that saved us.”

Johnny blinked at her for a long moment as his sluggish mind worked out what she was implying. When it finally got through his two gonked brain cells, his eyes went wide.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah,” Rogue agreed bitterly.

The last thing you wanted to be in Night City was indebted to anyone and the worst kind of debt to owe someone was a life-debt. Then people fucking owned you. Like being on a leash and they’d both ended up indebted to the Chevalier- the Queen of Mercs -with a life-debt. 

The door opened and a ripperdoc came in. She was holding a tablet and looking over something. She glanced up.

“Ah good. you’re awake,” she said, setting down the tablet and coming over it stand by them. “Need to check a few things before I clear you.”

Johnny let her poke at him- he didn’t have much choice since this was the Chevalier’s ripperdoc -and contemplated his life choices that landed him there.

If he and Rogue hadn’t decided to change up their routine and try out Club Haven as a new hangout, they wouldn’t have run into that pack of wannabe mercs. Johnny made some kind of joke they didn’t like and he and Rogue ended up in a drop-dead brawl. 

Someone cleared their throat. A guy that was wearing a studded-shoulder Club Haven jacket- the kind the bouncers wore -was standing there. He had a nasty-looking scar across his face that twisted it up in a perpetual grimace and Johnny had to wonder how someone ended up getting fucked up like that. 

“Chevalier wants to see you,” the bouncer explained. His voice was a lot less gruff than Johnny had been expecting.

“The guy can’t go anywhere yet,” the ripperdoc said, poking Johnny’s implant arm with something sharp. He jerked hard and Rogue hid a snicker behind her hand. He glared at her and she rolled her eyes.

“Send him when he can,” the bouncer said then jerked his head at Rogue, “Let’s go.”

Rogue looked nervous but didn’t protest being told what to do. She knew who was in charge and it sure as hell wasn’t her or Johnny. She gave Johnny’s flesh arm a squeeze then stood up to follow the bouncer. Johnny watched her go, wishing he had a cigarette to take the edge off his anxiety.

“Got a smoke?” He asked the ripperdoc.

“Nope.” 

She poked his implant arm again making him hiss out at pain shot through his nerves. 

“Least you didn’t damage it too bad.”

“It got damaged?” Johnny felt a stab of panic. That arm wasn’t cheap and he didn’t have enough eddies saved up to repair anything more than an overstrained synth-muscle.

“Took a bullet to it.” She did something that made his fingers twitch. “But I fixed it.”

“Ah…good,” Johnny muttered but it really wasn’t. He wasn’t sure how he was going to pay for it. Now he wasn’t just in debt to the Chevalier but he also owed her ripperdoc eddies. Just fucking preem.

He sat in silence while the ripperdoc fiddled around with his arm. He was stuck there long enough that Rogue would probably have left the club.

Finally, the ripperdoc sealed some little hatch on the back of his metal hand and stood up. 

“All done. You can go see her now. Just head out the door to the right. Someone will pick you up and show you where to go.” Then she turned away from him, done giving him any kind of attention.

Johnny slid off the leather chair, flexing his metal fingers making sure they all worked- actually seemed to work better than before -and followed the ripperdocs instructions. Sure enough, right outside a double set of doors, some other bouncer in a cut-off sleeve Haven jacket was standing there at attention. The guy was massive, arms the size of Johnny’s thigh, and tall enough he would have to duck to not brain himself on door frames. 

Johnny cleared his throat. 

“Was told someone would take me to the Chevalier.”

The bouncer ran a trained eye over him, top to bottom in a slow scan, and Johnny held still as possible to not fidget. He fucking hated how out-of-place he felt.

The bouncer gave a little snort, like he had found something amusing about Johnny, and started towards an elevator down the hall.

“C’mon then, rockerkid,” he called, waving a hand over his shoulder beckoning Johnny to follow. Johnny had to jog to catch up with the bouncer’s long strides, just making it as the elevator doors slid open.

“Don’t look so nervous kid,” the bouncer chuckled. 

Johnny bristled. 

“Not fucking nervous.” 

He crossed his arm nervously. Shit. He was nervous. He was about to walk into the Chevalier’s den- the Queen of Mercs, and he didn’t know what to expect. He never liked being surprised. Things always went wrong.

“Sure, sure.” The bouncer leaned against the elevator wall. “Just don’t pull any iron and you’ll be fine.”

“And if I did flash some iron?” Johnny challenged. Not that he would - he wasn’t a total gonk -but he was grasping at straws to make himself feel better.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” the bouncer grinned, humoring him, “Most of the security around here is for show—”

“Really? Cause you look like you could zero someone with your fist,” Johnny observed.

The bouncer barked out a laugh. 

“Meant that the Chevalier can handle most of the security problems before we even get to it.” 

He pushed off the wall as the elevator doors opened up onto the main floor. Music thrummed through the walls. 

“She’s the best for a reason, kid. Don’t play with that fire.”

He stepped out of the elevator and Johnny followed him, thinking over the warning. His reputation as a legendary rockerboy might be more of a problem than a help right now. 

The merc world was Rogue’s place. He just ran with her every once in a while when he was bored between shows and whatever parties he found himself at. 

Here? Johnny was out of his element and didn’t know what he was supposed to do. So he’d play it safe for once in his life. Being flatlined wasn’t on his list of things to do.

  


  


  


—

  


  


  


The bouncer led him to a closed-off booth in the back of the club. The guy that had come to get Rogue was leaning beside the door, looking menacing without needing to do a thing. His face was enough to give any gonk a reason to not do shit around him. 

He greeted Johnny’s bouncer with a slow nod.

“She good for the kid?” Johnny’s bouncer asked and the other guy tilted his head ‘yes’ in answer. 

“Remember kid,” he shot a warning look at Johnny, “Don’t be a gonk.”

Johnny bit back a sarcastic comment and forced himself to swagger into the booth, the bouncer taking up post across from the scar-faced one.

Johnny found himself in front of a group of the highest players in the merc world. 

These were living legends of Night City- netrunners, solos and fixers -all in one place and in the middle was the woman who had stood between him a whole lot of bullets. 

She had a drink in one hand and a cigarette in the other- looked like a special brand, not the toxic stuff -arms spread out over the back of the couch like she wasn’t afraid of anything. Being the fucking Chevalier, she probably wasn’t.

Eyes flickered to him and then flicked away- dismissed -their conversations kept going like he wasn’t even there. Not like his shows where he walked into the place and people started screaming his name. 

He stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do with himself. It was not a feeling he liked.

The Chevalier took notice of him and tilted her head towards him.

Johnny's breath hitched as the full force of her attention landed on him and she leveled him with her eyes.

“Bull told me he was bringing you up,” she said in place of a greeting. “You and your output got into a lot of trouble on my doorstep.”

“Not my output,” he said immediately. 

Fuck. Why did that matter? Made him sound young. 

The Chevalier’s eyes got an amused look in them. 

“Oh? My apologies. You and your friend-” she emphasized and he saw the women next to her hide a grin- he didn’t get what was so fucking hilarious- “Almost ended up flatlined. Not a good look for me. People dying right on my doorstep.”

“Isn’t all of NC your doorstep?” 

The sarcasm was out of his mouth before he thought better of it. He really didn’t have any fucking filters, did he? 

Johnny shifted his weight, expecting blow-back but instead, the Chevalier laughed.

“You’re not wrong,” she huffed in amusement, a smile on her pretty lips. “I happened to be walking by when that firefight broke out. Saved you and your friend.”

She took a long swig from her drink. 

“You’re Johnny Silverhand right?” She asked and Johnny felt his mouth go dry at the sound of his name in her voice.

He fixated on her lips, trying to figure out what was different. 

She wasn’t wearing lipstick. 

That stuck in his brain like a pin and he didn’t know why. Every girl that threw themselves at him always had lipstick on. When he fucked them they left their mark on him in bright reds and dark purples. Like he was their canvas. Made kissing them taste like he was eating wax.

He swallowed as subtly as he could and raised an eyebrow. “Last I checked it was.”

That got a tittering of giggles from some of the group around her and he still didn’t know what the fuck they found so funny. 

“Why don’t you give me a private show, rockerboy,” she drawled.

Johnny had a few seconds warning to suppress the full-body shudder that wracked through him.

Plenty of girls asked him for a ‘private show’ all the time and it never sounded so damn erotic. His entire fucking body jumped to attention at the Chevalier’s voice and he didn’t like what that said about him.

He deflected by leaning on the one thing that hadn’t failed him in his life: his charm. 

He crossed his arms loosely, leaning back on his heels, cocking his hip just so in the way he used on chicks at his shows, and gave her a filthy smirk. 

“What kind of 'private show' you thinking of?” he asked, dropping his voice into the one he knew made the girls wet for him.

One of the girls giggled- not the way he expected -and he frowned a little.

“Oh you are cute,” another girl cooed.

Johnny felt the tips of his ears get hot. He didn’t fidget under their collective gaze but he couldn’t stop his metal fingers from tapping a solo beat into his flesh bicep.

The Chevalier cut a glance at her friend, lips upturned at the corners then turned towards him, twisting her body so she could cross her legs like a queen on her throne.

“Heard you’re the current musical darling-“ he bristled at the insinuation he was a fad- “And I like rock music. Thought we could work out a deal.”

He barked out a laugh. 

“What? Want me to play guitar for you? The fuck kind of deal is that?”

“Not a bad one in exchange for your life, hm?” she asked sweetly and it was like she’d dumped a bucket of ice water over him. 

She was giving him an out. 

Something in his power to do in exchange for the fact she’d saved his ass and he owed her a life debt. That kind of thing meant something in NC. That Bushido-honor-shit that all the top mercs operated by.

She held his life in her hands. Could ask anything she wanted from him because it was in her right to and if he didn’t comply he’d get blacklisted. 

Or zeroed. 

A couple of years ago he wouldn’t have given a shit- tell her to go fuck herself and walk out like he couldn’t be bothered with the life-debt honor code. But he’d been in Night City long enough to know you didn’t fuck with the underground and that the mercs ruled the streets.

And the Chevalier was the Queen of Mercs. 

Johnny hid his discomfort by hooking his thumbs in the seam of his pockets. 

“Sounds about fair,” he settled on even though he knew it was worth way less than what she could have asked for.

The Chevalier’s lips twitched into a smile as she leaned back into her booth, looking as relaxed as Johnny was tense. He felt like he could snap his shoulders in half if he got anymore stiff.

He cleared his throat. 

“So, want me to set up a gig?” 

He had no idea what she was actually wanting from him so he was taking potshots in the dark.

She hummed and took a swig from her dark liquid drink before shaking her head. 

“No. Think you’ll do just fine. Like I said, private show.”

Johnny couldn’t figure out if she was using that as a euphemism or not so he just nodded, hoping he was reading it right and that she wanted to hear him play. Though he wasn’t opposed to getting his dick wet if that’s what she wanted. She wasn’t his usual fare- older than any girl he’d fucked before -but she ticked off all his boxes. Mainly that she had tits and a pussy. He had basic standards.

“Alright,” his voice sounded dry, “When we doing this show?”

She shrugged and he felt insulted that she didn’t seem to care about hearing him. 

“Tomorrow night?”

Johnny frowned. “Gotta show tomorrow.”

“Next night then?”

He was surprised at how...not-give-a-fuck she was. Suddenly the uninterested looks he had gotten from her group at the beginning made sense now.

She didn’t give a fuck. 

He was a blip on her radar, a passing moment that didn’t affect her in any significant way. This whole deal was out of an obligation to look like she was claiming her due from him. She probably didn’t know what his noise sounded like. Might not have ever heard a single song he’d written.

He clenched his teeth. “I’ll be free.”

“Good, good,” she said distractedly, looking down at her holo that had it up. “Work the rest out with Siian.” 

And with that she dismissed him, ignoring him like he was a nobody. It boiled his blood.

One of the girls in the booth stood up and gestured for him to follow her. “C’mon. I’ll walk you out.” 

Johnny threw one last glance at the Chevalier and then stomped out, trailing after who he assumed was Siian. She took him through the club to the back door, telling him what time to come by.

Johnny snorted. 

“She actually going to show up?” 

He doubted the Chevalier would waste time listening to his noise since she didn’t give an actual fuck about him. It was just a way to keep him from looking like a gonk and he fucking hated that he’d somehow gotten himself in the position where he needed his reputation saved like that.

Siian peered at him. 

“She’ll be there. She does know who you are.”

Johnny raised a brow. “Really?”

Siian shrugged not bothered by his skepticism. 

“I’ve heard her listening to Samurai before. She’ll be at your little show.”

She opened the back door, a clear sign his time at Haven was up, and nodded towards the back alley. 

“The woman you were with already left.”

Johnny grunted and shrugged on his jacket as he walked out.

“Silverhand?” 

He turned around at Siian’s voice. She was leaning casually against the open door, appraising him with a judgmental eye. 

“It’s not that kind of private show,” she warned, “Bring your axe and don’t do anything stupid.”

He saluted her cheekily and she curled her lip in a sneer before shutting the door in his face.

He grumbled as he walked away. At least that answered his question about the real nature of his deal with the Chevalier. He’d play a few songs then delta and never have to see the Chevalier or Club Haven again.

“Johnny!”

He turned to see Rogue jogging up to him. She stopped in front of him, eyes flickering over him worriedly.

“You okay?”

He shrugged and dug his smokes out of his pocket, lighting up. Rogue waited for him to get a hold of himself. He could feel how close she was watching him.

“Guess so,” he said after a few drags and his hands had stopped shaking, “Gonna do a private show for her.”

Rogue's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline. 

“Private— that fucking cunt.” 

Johnny was startled by the sudden venom in her voice. She started pacing, working herself up into a rage.

“I didn’t think she was that sick. I don’t care if she saved your life that’s way past what—“

Johnny laughed, realizing what had set her off. Rogue gawked at him. 

“Not like that Rogue,” he reassured her. “Was told under no uncertain circumstances she just wants me to play for her. Apparently, she likes my noise.”

Rogue deflated, fight taken right out of her. 

“Oh. Well good.”

Johnny blew out a long cloud. 

“What’d she ask from you?”

Rogue looked uncomfortable but it was like she was embarrassed. Not a look Johnny was used to seeing on her.

“She asked me to join a gig.”

Johnny’s eyes went wide. 

“The fuck? That’s...”

Rogue beamed. 

“Preem right?”

“Yeah,” he breathed.

“Didn’t think she would be that nice,” Rogue admitted.

Johnny had to agree. Instead of some kind of dirty gig or shady deal, the Chevalier asked for something Johnny was good at and wanted maybe an hour of his time. Playing noise on his axe for an hour or two in exchange for his life was the best possible outcome in any situation. He’d practically gotten off free.

And she’d handed Rogue a gig that would actually help her out in the long run. Doing a gig for the Queen of Mercs would shoot Rogue right up there in street cred. It practically took years off Rogue’s slow climb to the top.

“Almost too good to be true,” Johnny mused and Rogue nodded, serious. 

“But the Chevalier doesn’t go back on her word. She even included the ripperdoc fee for you in our deals.”

Johnny gaped. “The fuck.”

That sounded like a trap. No way someone would write off a ripperdoc fee like that. But then again she was the highest-ranked merc in the city. She could do whatever the fuck she wanted.

“We got off easy,” Rogue muttered.

Johnny silently agreed. 

  


  


  


—

  


  


  


Johnny showed up at the back door of Club Haven a few minutes late. The bouncer- Bull -let him inside, peering down at him with a look that made Johnny wish he’d taken off from that girl's pad sooner.

“You’re late,” Bull stated and Johnny cleared his throat.

“Yeah. Got caught up.”

Bull snorted. 

“Sure. That fresh hickey says exactly how you ‘got caught up.’”

Johnny almost reached up to cover the hickey— fuck, didn’t know she marked him —but stopped himself mid-motion. Bull rolled his eyes.

“No one gives a shit about that, kid. But you’re not doing yourself any favors showing up late. I don’t think I have to tell you that you got off easy here.”

Johnny seethed. He hadn’t been talked to like that since he’d been in the army. 

“Didn’t ask her to save me,” he snarled.

Suddenly he was being crowded against the wall, back flat up against the cold metal, with Bull towering over him like a mega-building. Johnny craned his neck back to meet the guy's face, hands clenching on reflex gearing up for a fight.

“Watch yourself, Silverhand,” Bull growled and Johnny felt a sliver of fear pierce his heart at the coldness to the once warm voice. “Playing some noise and running your mouth seems to be the only things your good at. Only do one of them when you’re with her.”

He stared Johnny down for a long moment then backed off and kept walking towards the elevator at the end of the hall. Johnny took a second to breathe then shook it off and shouldered his axe before catching up with Bull. They didn’t talk the rest of the way. Bull lead him to a back room that had a door and looked to be a plush private box. Nice fabric couches and the walls were soundproof.

Bull let him inside, stayed while Johnny set his axe down then gave him a warning look before shutting the door behind him on the way out.

Johnny looked around for someplace to jack in his guitar. Siian had told him to just bring his axe and not worry about amps or anything else so he assumed there had to be a place to hook it in. After a few minutes of looking around, he found it and got settled, playing a few riffs to check the sound. 

He was still tuning his strings when the door opened and the Chevalier stepped in.

She looked just as good as the other night. Pretty lips and pretty hair. Johnny could see her curves, shirt hugging her tits just right and leather pants tight on her ass. He swallowed and focused on his axe.

“Nice of you to join me,” she quipped and he felt his ears get hot.

Definitely should have left that girl's place sooner.

“Ah, yeah. Sorry ‘bout that,” he said lamely, knowing he’d fucked this up before he even got started. 

She shrugged then sat down on the plush couch, putting her feet up on the coffee table, crossing them at the ankles. “Not a big deal. Not like this is a gig.” 

She pulled a pack of cigarettes out and lit one. It didn’t smell like any of that synth-tobacco shit he smoked so he’d been right it was a fancy brand. She held one out to him and he took it, curious about how it’d taste, and lit it with the lighter he had in his back pocket. 

He took a long drag of the cleanest smoke he’d ever tasted and fucking moaned when the high hit him. It rushed through him and made him dizzy in the best ways. 

When he peeled his eyes open he noticed the Chevalier was watching him, cig dangling loosely from her lips in the way that always made him want to take it from the girls at his show, right before he’d swallow their tongues and fuck them against a wall.

She grinned around the cig. “That good huh?”

He brought his focus back to reality.

“Yeah. Fucking preem stuff. What is it?”

“O2Stick.”

His eyes went wide. “Fuck.”

She laughed, clearly enjoy his reaction.

“Nothing like that good old oxygen huh?”

He took the stick out of his mouth to study it, just to see what the thing looked like. He’d just took a hit from a thousand-eddie product. O2Stick’s were the purest form of oxygen on the market. He grinned and took another hit, moaning filthily when the high hit him again, washing his whole body with a tingly sensation. He took another hit.

“The high gets stronger the more hits you take,” she warned, taking a long drag from hers. “You’ll be alright to play?”

Johnny blinked owlishly at her, his brain taking a detour around the city before finding words. “Uh…”

She burst out in a peal of giggles, throwing her head back as her whole body shook with laughter. 

“Sorry! Should have warned you sooner.”

He couldn’t get his tongue to unstick from the roof of his mouth. His body was too damn relaxed for anything at the moment. She seemed to figure out he was in the stratosphere cause she settled into her seat, looking amused.

“We’ll finish the sticks and then you can play.”

That was just fine with him. 

He slid down the couch till he had to prop himself up with his feet on the coffee table before he melted into the floor.

“You want a drink?”

He peered at her through hooded eyes and managed to get his head to nod.

“What do you want?” She opened her holo and started typing.

“Mm. Tequila old-fashioned, Cerveza and chili.”

The drinks were delivered by one of the bartenders. She had them leave the bottle. Johnny let himself float away with the concentrated oxygen in his brain. It had been a long while since he’d had a high this good. It was strange getting high off of what was essentially a cigarette but he could see why they were so damn expensive.

The Chevalier’s face appeared in front of him. “How you doing rockerboy?”

“Hmmmokay.”

She grinned. “Sure. You’ll come down in a minute. Gotta say, I haven’t been this entertained in a long time.”

“Wait’ll you see wha’ my hands can do,” he slurred, tongue finally remember how to form words.

She laughed quietly, lighting up another O2Stick. He was just finishing his. As she said, his high started wearing off and his brain came down from the moon, settling him back in his body. He groaned at the loss and shook himself to shake off the residue tingling on his skin. 

“Good to have you back,” she teased and he couldn’t help the grin on his face. He’d thought she’d be a hard-ass, a real bitch, but she’d been good company so far.

“So,” he picked up his axe and settled into a position where he could play seriously, “You actually ever hear my noise?”

She took a sip of her drink before nodding her head. “Heard your noise a lot. I got a few records from both Samurai and just you.”

Johnny blinked at her. “Huh. Didn’t expect that.”

She smirked at him knowingly. “Thought I was having you play for shits and giggles?”

He ran a riff down the guitar neck, making it sing. 

“Something like that,” he replied.

“I don’t play with people Johnny, “ she stated and his body shuddered hearing his name in her voice, “If I want something I’ll say it. Now,” she kicked her feet up on the coffee table and gestured at him with her glass, “Play for me rockerboy.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied cheekily and dove into it.

It was different doing a gig in a soundproof room, sitting on a couch, singing for an audience of one. He didn’t need a mic to be heard over his music and the acoustics in the room were nova. The Chevalier was bobbing her head along, sipping her drink and tapping her toes along with his beat.

He couldn’t keep a shit-eating grin off his face when she started singing along with him. He marveled at the fact their voices sounded perfect for each other. She knew how to carry a tune and she harmonized with him, making the song sound better than it was.

He played through his catalog of his most popular songs- the ones he really loved too -and then took a break, soothing his throat with tequila. The Chevalier poured them both another round and raised it to him in a toast which he mirrored and they both tossed back their shots.

Johnny knew it had been well over an hour since he’d started playing but he didn’t want to stop. Especially if she kept singing with him. Only Kerry had been able to keep up with him when singing. Only Ker sounded good with him and having someone else to carry a tune with was an addiction he didn’t know he wanted.

The Chevalier noticed him waffling about playing or not and she gestured encouragingly.

“Keep playing.”

“Not needing to be anywhere else?” he questioned because as big as his ego was, he wasn’t gonk enough to believe she didn’t have other things that needed doing besides listening to him play.

She shook her head and gave him a sly smile that went straight to his dick. 

“Nah. This is where I want to be. I cleared my night so keep playing.”

Johnny nodded mutely and started up another song, one he hadn’t released yet. 

She couldn’t sing along- didn’t know the words -but her eyes were glued to him like he was the only thing that mattered at that moment. Made him feel on top of the world. It was a feeling he wanted to chase for the rest of his life. When he was done with the song he paused, waiting to see her reaction.

“Never heard that one before,” she breathed and Johnny’s chest got tight at the awe in her voice.

“Never played it for anyone before,” he confessed, glancing at her through his curtain of hair. 

“Think I found my new favorite song,” she said sweetly, and fuck, he didn’t know what to do. 

Siian and Bull’s warnings to not be a gonk and behave himself rang through his brain. 

But damn, she was pretty. 

The image of her stalking towards him, gun drawn and murder on her face, placing herself between him and those gangers flashed in his mind. His pants got uncomfortably tight.

Johnny had to admit to himself that he might have a thing for dangerous, powerful women.

  



	2. A Thing of Beauty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a Safe For Work version of my explicit fic 'Not Willing To Pay That Price' for those of you who want fluff without the fux. My friend asked me for a SFW version of my fic so I edited out the more jalapeno bits.
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> **V's handle is pronounced [shuh-val-yey]**

V knew exactly who he was when she spotted him and his output- friend -tussling on the losing side with some gangers outside her club. Hard to not know with him wearing that Samurai-branded jacket like a neon sign. Saving him hadn’t been a conscious thought. Putting herself between him and the gangers was instinctive.

Esk was not been happy with her as she walked right into the line of fire, yelling after her to not be a gonk. Still, he did his job, running up behind her, sword drawn, but she had already finished the fight by then. When Silverhand collapsed, it was Esk that took him from her arms carried him down to the ripperdoc. The girl, his friend, trailed behind them looking a little worse for wear but not bleeding all over like he was and had looked pretty shell-shocked when Esk called V the Chevalier. 

Made V kind of sad really. She hadn’t wanted a reputation that scared the shit out of new mercs but it ended up that way over the years. Mostly because the new mercs got into trouble and caused V problems that she had to fix.

After she made sure Silverhand wasn’t going to flatline, she left the ripper to take care of things and headed out to have a smoke. Esk followed her out, her personal bodyguard and comforting shadow, standing by silently while she pulled herself together. He looked unbothered but by the set of his shoulders and the defensive stance he had adopted, she knew he had something on his mind he wasn’t saying.

“What’s bothering you Esk?” She opened the door for the conversation.

He glanced at her, scarred-face making him much scarier than he was, pinched his lips, thought about his words then dropped his arms. “What is it about him?”

She faked ignorance. “What?”

Esk had been with her for longer than anyone in the city. Knew her like he knew his blades. Of course he was able to read her. 

“You don’t walk into a firefight for just anyone, V.”

She stubbed out her O2Stick, agitated. “Does it matter?”

Eks stared at her for a long time, seeing through her bullshit like he always did. He shook his head and chuckled a little, deciding to cut her break. 

“You thought about the price you’re going to ask?”

Fuck. She hadn’t. At all. Esk gave her a knowing look.

“How about you ask him to play for you?” He suggested, “I know you’re a fan of his.”

He knew she could sing along with all of Samurai’s songs because he’d heard her screaming out the lyrics often enough when he used to tag along to a few of the shows to watch her back. She’d followed Silverhand’s career from Samurai to his solo days. His music spoke to her. Helped remind her why she’d stayed a merc; to stick it to the corpos by blazing her own path and helping the people they fucked over. She was almost ten years older than Silverhand, but he had an old soul at a young age and it showed itself in his music. She tried not to use her clout for selfish things and making him play a show for her in exchange for a left-debt was well into the selfish camp.

“Be a little selfish V,” Esk encouraged quietly, knowing her doubts, “You deserve it.”

  


  


  


—

  


  


  


Johnny Silverhand was a young buck that oozed sex appeal and complete confidence. He was also way out of his depth among the upper tier of the merc world. He may be a legend in the rocker world but the merc world was a whole other beast. His ability to hide how uncomfortable was impressive.

V saw right through him.

When she suggested a private show and he’d given her that utterly filthy smirk, she almost laughed at how ballsy he was. Siian found his ‘wild stallion’ persona amusing, giggling and covering her face to mouth ‘what a cutie’ to V. 

Katsue, always looking to score, cooed at him, “Oh you are cute.”

The way his face flushed was way too enduring. V had to agree with them- Johnny Silverhand was cute as fuck.

Unfortunately while talking to him, her holo pinged with an important client she couldn’t ignore. Much as she wanted to. She had to let Siian figure out the rest and show him out. After he left, private show confirmed, there was exactly thirty seconds of silence before her group burst out with their opinions of the rockerboy.

“Those leather pants couldn’t be tighter if he painted them on,” Dorian surmised with a smirk. “He doesn’t leave anything to the imagination does he?”

“Like you’re any different,” Shep said, taking out a smoke from the pack on the table.

Liliana leaned over to help Shep light his smoke. “That’s a trouble maker if I ever saw one,” she mused with a smirk. V snorted. Liliana was the biggest troublemaker out of the group.

Katsue made a cat noise. “Roawr! He’s the kind of trouble I want.” She turned to V. “You gonna fuck him?”

V rolled her eyes and signaled for another round of drinks for all of them. “Unlike you, I don’t do the chasing.”

Shep leaned forward, looking far too curious. 

“So,” he started and V was immediately suspicious at the tone in his voice, “you’re saying if he chased you, you’d fuck him?”

“Fuck you, Shep.” She flicked him off and her friends burst out in a round of laughter.

“Knew you had a thing for younger men,” MacCready snickered. He saluted her with his fresh drink. “Least you have good taste. Heard the guy knows how to make ‘em scream.”

V flicked him off and then flicked off the entire group as she chugged down her drink. 

So what if she liked younger men? She wasn’t going to fuck Johnny Silverhand. He was the kind of man that lived day to day and never committed to anything. His music was the only thing she’d ever heard about him keeping to long term. With her large network of ears and eyes all over the city, V tended to hear the latest about everyone, rockerboy legends included. Silverhand tagged along on merc gigs between shows and fucked groupies at parties. That was the extent of what he did with his time. An aimless rockerboy with anger issues and no target to shoot at.

Still, V was looking forward to the little concert. It had been a long time since she’d been able to see anyone live and Silverhand always lit up the night like a comet.

  


—

  


The private show was the best part of her entire fucking year. Silverhand was a supernova on and off the stage. He was treating her to all his best songs, letting her sing along like she belonged with him on a track.

It was nice. She could pretend she wasn’t a legend and unwind for the night, letting his noise carry her to a different place. She would have to thank Esk for the suggestion. Maybe buy him a fancy new sword— European-style like he preferred.

Silverhand was playing the last song of his private show and she was feeling sorry that it was ending. He’d played a lot longer than she’d expected him to and she was glad about it. He had seemed eager and willing to humor her request for an encore and had gone on to play another several songs she’d never heard him play.

“Good noise,” she complimented when he struck the last cord. His beaming smile made her chest tighten. She’d never seen him smile like that at the shows she’d been to.

“Only the best for a private show,” he bragged and she snorted at his ego.

He packed up his axe, swinging it onto his back stretching as he stood. He really was easy on the eyes and V drank her fill, not feeling guilty about it in the slightest. She’d seen him strip to just his pants on stage before, parading himself for everyone to watch. That had been a wild show. He’d poured tequila on himself and then on the crowd. 

She offered him an O2Stick, holding the pack out to him. “Smoke before you head out?”

His eyes lit up. “Sure. Maybe I won’t go gonk-brained this time around.”

She laughed at that and took her own stick out after him, lighting it and taking a drag. When she opened her eyes Silverhand was leaning down towards her, stick between his lips, looking at her with his eyebrows raised in question. She smirked, reading what he wanted, and leaned up towards him to let him light his stick up from hers.

It was an intimate action- bold in a way she knew he was and she was just fan-girl enough to indulge in it. 

Her breath caught when his honey eyes locked on hers as he dragged in a slow breath, breathing her in. He didn’t move when it was lit, staying close enough that she could see how his eyes crinkled at the corners from him his self-satisfied smirk. 

She took a long drag and then tilted her head up towards him in an invitation. His eyes widened and he leaned down towards her so their faces were close and opened his mouth. 

She breathed out, filling his mouth with her smoke, eyes locked on his in an electric stare. His pupils blew wide and then his eyes slid shut as his entire body shuddered. His arms came up on either side of her to steady himself on the couch leaving him leaning over her. His long hair brushed her face, tickling her skin.

Just toeing the line of appropriate. 

“Thanks for the private show, rockerboy,” she murmured.

He blinked at her, dazed, before a lazy smirk spread itself over his lips.

“Anytime.”

V let out a little sad laugh, shaking her head, knowing that she’d not indulge herself again. Couldn’t afford to. Silverhand furrowed his brows, looking put out at her unspoken rejection and she almost felt bad.

With great effort, V pulled back from him, leaning back into the couch to put as much distance between them as possible. He took the hint, dropping his arms and standing up straight. His eyes darted over her face, searching for something. He looked disappointed when he apparently couldn’t find whatever it was.

V took a lazy drag from her stick, glancing away in an attempt to dissolve the tension that had skyrocketed between them. She breathed out her cloud. Silverhand’s eyes locked onto her mouth, his tongue darting out to wet his lips in an unconscious gesture. V had to shut this down. 

“I’ll have Siian show you out.”

Silverhand blinked hard, honey eyes snapping to frown at her, confused. He shifted his weight, crossing his arms over his chest and tossed his head like he was physically shaking off his thoughts. His long black hair reflected the neon light of their private booth making him look like some kind of ethereal figure.

Her mouth went dry.

“Sure,” he said gruffly.

V reluctantly sent a ping to Siian’s holo to meet him outside the room.

“She’ll meet you at the end of the hall,” V informed him.

“…Alright.”

He turned on his heel to leave. Before he could jerk the door open, she called to him.

“Silverhand?” 

He turned his head to look at her, one eyebrow raised in question. “Next time you come in, bars open to you. Anything you want on the house.”

He nodded, scowl still in place, and left the room closing the door behind a little harder than necessary. 

V calmly smoked her stick, listening to his retreating footsteps like a lonely drumbeat. She made it through half another stick before Siian returned alone; untamed stallion Johnny Silverhand released back out into the wild west of Night City.

“What was that about?” Siian inquired, “He was in a mood.” 

V groaned as Siian came to sit down next to her. 

“You look cut up about whatever happened,” her friend observed. “You fuck him?”

“No,” V snapped then snatched the special tequila cocktail Silverhand had ordered- she’d gotten them a few over the night and there was still one left- and downed it in one go.

Siian clicked her tongue in surprise.“Whoa. That bad?”

V smacked her lips, annoyed. “Esk told me to indulge myself a little. I didn’t expect to be…” she trailed off, not sure if she wanted to voice it.

“Actually attracted to him?” Siian supplied.

V groaned. “Exactly.”

“Well, you have been a fan of his for literally years. I’m not surprised you have a hard-on for him.” Siian patted her knee in sympathy. “I warned him not to try to get his dick wet with you but now I’m thinking I should have told him to go for it.”

V scrunched up her face. “Don’t think that would have helped.”

Siian peered at her closely. “…a quick couch fuck wouldn’t have fixed…” she made a circling gesture, “Whatever this is?”

“It’d be better if it was just lust,” V grumbled, sinking further into the couch wishing it would swallow her.

Siian blinked, stunned, then her face softened in pity. “Oh V…you really like him?”

“Shut up. I don’t want to think about it.”

“…how long?”

“…tonight.”

“Well, shit. I’m sorry.”

V sulked, nursing her almost empty drink. “Me too.”

V had given up going after things she wanted for herself because it never worked out. Besides, Silverhand was a young rebel that didn’t know what the fuck he wanted. He was the kind of guy that, if he had been one of her mercs, she’d have kicked to the curb for being a reckless gonk that dragged everyone down with him. She had no intention of doing anything with the wild rockerboy. No plans to track him down or asking him for anything. This one show was just a little distraction to help her cut loose and enjoy something for herself. 

That was it. 

  


  


  


—

  


  


  


Johnny Silverhand and his friend, some rocker guy with black hair and a headband, were at Haven a few weeks later. V spotted them hanging at the bar, already with a few glasses lined up in front of them. She had made sure to tell Xinyi, the bartender, to let Johnny and whoever he brought with him have an open tab. His eyebrows had sailed clean off his forehead but he didn’t question her. It was her bar and her tab.

As usual, she walked by the bar, calling out her order to Xinyi, not stopping to say hi to them. She was settling in with the tablets Xinyi had dropped off along with her drink when Esk stepped in front of someone at the door of her booth. She caught sight of Johnny Silverhand trying to convince Esk to let him in.

“Just gonna talk to—”

“If she wanted to talk to you she would have called you over.”

V sighed, setting down her tablet next to her.

“Let him in Esk,” she called. Esk stared Silverhand down for another moment before stepping aside and allowing the rockerboy to into the room.

Silverhand had a smirk on his face like he knew he was special. Which he was. Just a little. V stretched her arms out over the back of the couch, relaxing. His eyes flicked down to her tits- a fine pair that she’d grown herself, no augmentation needed -and then up to her face. She tilted her head.

“What can I do for you, Silverhand?”

He cleared his throat. “Ah. Wanted to know if you were doing anything in a few nights?”

V looked past Silverhand at the back of her bodyguard who was pretending he wasn’t listening in.

“Esk?” she called. He appeared in the doorway. “Close the door.”

She didn’t miss the subtle ‘are you sure?’ facial expression he gave her but he still closed the door when she gave him the tiniest of nods. The door clicked shut, plunging the room into the muted quiet of the soundproof booth. V studied Silverhand. 

“Why do you want to know?”

He met her gaze without flinching and gave her a smirk that looked right at home on him. 

“Got a show I’m doing in a few days. Thought since you said you liked my noise you might wanna hear me play live.”

V stared at him, brain stalling like a bad hard drive. She’d seen him live a few times over the years but he didn’t know that. He hadn’t ever seen her face before the other night and she’d stopped going to shows the past year because she’d started drawing too much attention from randos who somehow knew her as the Chevalier.

To his credit, even in the long silence that V took to contemplate her life decisions, he didn’t start fidgeting. Just stood there with his arms loosely crossed to give them something to do, waiting for her to make up her mind.

V picked up her glass. “Your live shows any different than your private ones?” 

Just a tease. Give him a little to work with. She wanted to see where this went.

Silverhand’s smirk turned into a filthy grin. 

“Live shows are wild. Think it might be your scene.”

“Oh?” She took a slow sip of her drink. “And what do you know what I’d like?”

He shrugged. “Don’t. Just got a feeling though.”

V knew she wouldn’t go. Too much effort and just because he was asking didn’t make her want to jump at the chance. The private show had been enough to settle the music itch she’d had for the last while. 

“I’ll think about it,” is what she said instead. 

Silverhand grinned like she’d said ‘yes’ and she stomped on the urge to knock him down a peg.

“Preem.” He headed to the door, throwing out a “see you there” before sauntering out.

Esk stuck his head through the door, looking at her expectantly. She shrugged.

“He asked me to go see his show.”

Esk snorted. “The fucking balls on that guy.”

V could only laugh in agreement.

“But do you want to go?” Esk questioned, leaning against the door frame. “Don’t think you’ve been to a show in a long while.”

V sunk into the couch. “Can’t anymore really. People know my face now.”

“V, they’ve known your face for years. Could always wear a disguise.”

She waved him off and he got the hint, leaving her alone in her booth to get back to work.

  


  


  


—

  


  


  


The night of the show came and went. V stayed home, working on a gig that required paperwork and chasing leads. She pushed Johnny Silverhand out of her mind like she had done a long time ago before he had a gunfight in front of her club. It was more difficult than it had been previously because now she knew his eyes were honey brown and he had a deep throaty laugh. But she’d indulged herself once like she’d said she would and now life moved on.

Except Silverhand didn’t want life to move on apparently. 

A week after the night of his show, he showed up at Haven again, hanging around until he could talk to her.

She let him into her booth again and had Esk shut the door.

She looked at Silverhand expectantly. 

“Didn’t see you at the show,” he explained.

She shrugged. “Didn’t actually ask me to go. Just said you were doing a show and I never agreed to go,” she pointed out. 

He frowned. “Well, I’m doing a show tomorrow night. I’d like you to show up.”

V raised a brow. “What makes you think you the right to ask me to ‘show up’ at your show? That’s not even a proper invite.”

He shifted his weight, caught off guard. V clicked her tongue, rolling her eyes.

“Get out kid,” she ordered, “Think you’ve overstayed your welcome for tonight.”

By the shock on his face, he’d never been turned down like that before. He stood there like a gonk for a good few seconds before shaking himself and stalking out the door. V watched him disappear around the corner towards the stairwell that led out of Haven.

Esk popped his head in. “Ask you again?”

“Yup.”

“Said no again?”

“Yup.”

“He an asshole?”

“Na just an arrogant brat.”

He chuckled. “So the cautionary tale here is to never meet your heroes.”

“Fuck off Esk.”

“Hey, just saying. Could just fuck him quick and get it out of your system.”

She stayed quiet and eventually he just sighed and closed the door so she could be alone.

  


  


  


—

  


  


  


A few more weeks passed and Silverhand didn’t show up again. V moved on, focusing on her work, once again shoving Johnny Silverhand, relentless rockerboy to the back of her mind.

Then Esk knocked on her door close to closing time about three months after her private show.

“This got dropped off for you.” 

He placed a paper flier with the Samurai logo on the table in front of her, title side up.

In big silver letters it read: 

  


Johnny Silverhand

Playing at Red Ringer

  


It was signed by Silverhand like a damn autograph. Her eyes flicked up to glare at him. “The fuck is this?”

Esk sat down and took a pull from his beer bottle. “Flip it over.”

She did and her breath caught. In blocky but neat letters, written with real ink, was a message addressed to her:

  


  


To the Chevalier, the Queen-

I’d like to invite you to my show, two nights from now. Really would make my night if you would be there. Been thinking about that private show I did for you. If you don’t want to see a big show, I’d like to do another private one for you.

\- Johnny 

  


  


V stared at the invitation speechless. That was the last thing she’d expected from him. 

Esk was watching her from the corner of his eye. 

“I didn’t know Silverhand used paper fliers,” he commented lightly.

“You know he doesn’t,” she muttered. 

She couldn’t remember a single time she had seen any paper fliers for his gigs since his Samurai days. They had stopped printing them when he had become a bigger name and word of mouth and regular posters plastered around the city was enough. 

“Seems like he made an exception this time,” Esk mused.

V hunched over seeking answers at the bottom of her tequila glass.

“You should go,” Esk murmured like he was afraid of spooking her. “I know you want him and he’s making it pretty obvious he wants you. Go. See what happens.”

“Not looking for a quick fuck Esk,” she countered and he snorted.

“Know you’re not but I saw the way you clicked when he sang for you. He looked pretty upset when you sent him off. He’s been damn persistent in trying to talk to you since.”

V frowned. “What do you mean?”

Esk let himself sink into the couch, legs sprawled out in front of him and shifting to friend instead of bodyguard/employee. He was about to lay down some heavy shit. V braced herself by downing the rest of her Silverhand-special.

“I knew you were having some kind of crisis V, so I told Bull to keep him from coming inside. But he’s been showing up every couple of nights since the night you threw him out. Trying to see you. Tonight he asked Bull to give you the flier and left. Bull left it up to me on if I should pass it along or not.”

V stared at the flier and Silverhand’s writing. Bold and attention-grabbing like the man himself. Never one to do things halfway. The idea of him showing up every few nights for the last two months, trying to talk to her, was making her think she might have been mistaken about him.

“What do you think Esk?” She picked at her jeans, feeling too vulnerable to look at him. 

“Go,” he encouraged her softly, “see what happens. Know you’ll regret it if you don’t.”

She knew he was right and it sounded like this was Silverhand’s last attempt to get her to come to a show and he’d invited her properly like she’d asked him to. 

She’d go. 

  


  


  


—

  


  


  


V put on her disguise— wig, contacts, clothes, different guns, the whole thing- and took public transportation to get to Red Ringer. It was a pretty nice venue. The air smelled like fish and garbage, wafting in from the canal across the street, but inside the bar it smelled like smoke and booze. Reminded her of a few years ago when she could shoot the shit at bars she didn’t own without being harassed by rando mercs.

She stayed in the back of the room, watching the crowd he had drawn. When he walked on stage guys and girls alike started screaming his name. Someone threw a bra on the stage with perfect aim, landing it right on his face. He pulled it off with a filthy smirk and tucked it in his back pocket like a good luck token. 

Then he started playing, fingers flying over the neck of his guitar and the room went supernova.

Watching Johnny Silverhand in his element was like being in the eye of a cosmic storm. Everything around him was chaos- lights and noise and overwhelming -but he was the apex of the universe at that moment.

Silverhand played every one of his popular songs. She sang along with each one, screaming out the lyrics in the back of the room, feeling free for the first time in forever. Esk had been right about the disguise and she already made up her mind to do this again. Maybe go see WhiteWolves or NORMANDY. Those shows were never as wild as Silverhand’s but they were just as much fun.

She knew the show was winding down. Silverhand liked to run them for an hour, blasting through his set of his most popular hits. He was strumming the last few cords of his newest song and finished with a flourish, letting the notes pierce through the room and echo out the speakers like sonar. But then he grabbed his guitar’s neck in a death-grip, choking off the noise. The room went silent with anticipation, all eyes on him.

“Gonna play a special song,” he said and an excited wave went through the room. His eyes scanned the crowd, passing right over her, not recognizing her in the disguise. “A favorite of hers. In case she’s listening.”

Her heart jumped into her throat as the cords of the unreleased song he’d played for her- the one she’d claimed as her favorite song -filled the room.

“In case she’s listening.”

He was hoping she’d come to the show, playing a song dedicated to her ‘just in case’ she was there. The crowd screamed in excitement as he flew through the song, embellishing the notes here and there and adding a guitar solo in the middle that he hadn’t played at her private show. As soon as the last cord filtered out of the sound system, V made a beeline backstage to the dressing room. 

There was a bouncer standing outside the door. He looked her over and smirked.

“You Johnny’s girl?”

“He expecting someone else?” she quipped, not bothering to correct the guy. He had invited her after all and she wanted to get into the room before he got there.

The bouncer crossed his arms looking far too amused. 

“He said that some girl might come by. Didn’t tell me what to look for though. So I guess if you’re not her, you got lucky.” He stepped away from his post.

“Door’s unlocked,” he threw over his shoulder and then he was gone past the double doors.

V quickly ducked inside the room taking a second to gather herself and make a plan. It had been fucking years since she had been so impulsive and she felt on uneven ground, not sure where to go from there. She had exactly no time before the door handle was turning and Silverhand walked in. She froze, eyes locked on the sweaty rockerboy as he stormed inside, looking angry about something. He saw her and pulled up short, hand still on the door handle, his angry expression turning into a snarl.

“What the- Who the fuck are you?” He growled, “get the fuck out of here!”

V raised a brow at him. “Thought you invited me, rockerboy.”

She pulled the wig off and his eyes went wide as she removed her aviators. He moved into the room, closing the door behind him with his foot.

“Fuck. You showed up.”

She put a hand on her hip. “You invited me.”

He crossed his arms defensively. “Invited you a few times.”

She shrugged. “You asked nicely this time. Decided to come check you out.”

Silverhand smirked. “Yeah? And what did The Chevalier think?”

She hummed, pretending to think it over. “The show you did at The Glide was wilder than this one. You poured tequila on the crowd.”

His brows furrowed, confused, then they shot up into his hairline. “That was a Samurai show.”

“Yup. Good tequila too,” she said flippantly, settling herself onto the couch. She held her pack of O2Sticks out to him. “Wanna smoke?” 

He crossed the room in a few long strides and stood in front of her for a moment, studying her, then took a sick and put it in between his lips. She lit hers up and tilted her head up toward him- an invitation.

His eyes became molten pools of heat and he slowly leaned down, touching the tip of his smoke to hers, hair falling around his face like a curtain. She held his honey-eyes, letting a predatory smile spread across her lips. Still crowding her, He took a drag from the stick and his eyes slid shut at the high, a small moan escaping him.

V chuckled. “Still the good shit?”

He looked at her through hooded eyes. A dazed smile. “Fuck yeah.”

They breathed in the heady oxygen, letting the high relax them for a few moments. 

“My real name’s V.”

Silverhand focused on her, honey-eyes intense and curious. 

“As in the letter?”

“Problem?”

He smiled to himself, holding his almost done stick between his fingers as he leaned against the dressing counter. “Not at all, V.” 

V’s heart jumped. Her name sounded so good in his voice. 

“You saw Samurai live?” he prompted.

“Yup.” She took a drag of her stick.

When it was clear she wasn’t going to elaborate, he rolled his eyes. “That why you wanted a private show?” he questioned, flicking his burned-out stick into the ashtray on the table.

V shrugged. “Haven’t been able to get out to any shows for a while. Seemed like a good excuse to hear some good noise. Speaking of,” she locked eyes with him. “Loved that last song you played.”

“First time I played that song for a crowd,” he admitted, “I hoped you were somewhere in there. Listening.”

“Silverhand,” she sighed, stubbing out her half-burned stick, “What do you want from me?”

“You.” No hesitation. 

She rolled her eyes. “Obviously,” she replied, “But I want to know why. You’ve been coming my around bar for months. Asking me to a show for months. Chasing me for months. Why?”

He glanced away from her. The tips of his ears turned red. She waited for him to figure out what he wanted to say because she had come this far, might as well see it to the end.

“We sound good together,” he blurted out.

She blinked. “What?”

He blew out a breath running a ran through his long hair in frustration. His honey-eyes locked on her and her mouth went dry at the intense want in them.

“When I played for you.” He took a step towards her. “You knew all my songs. Sang along and we sounded good together. No one but Kerry’s been able to do that and we’ve been singing since we were teens. Seemed like we had a- a spark or something. And I wanted to see if we could have something more. When you saved my life- standing in front of me like you’d take a bullet for me- fuck! You were a thing of beauty! Then you were singing my songs like you got what they mean and understood what I’ve been trying to say...! Thought maybe I could finally see what my life was missing.”

He gripped his metal arm with his flesh hand in a half hug, hanging his head and looking at the ground. 

“I’m just- I don’t- I never want this feeling to fade. And that fucking scares me. But I wanted to find out. See if there was something to that feeling. That connection.” He glanced at her, eyes bright with hope. “Thought maybe you’d wanna find out too.”

V stared at him, stunned speechless. That was one hell of a confession. She would be a gonk to not admit she felt that connection with him and it put her over the moon to hear he thought it was more than a physical attraction. She studied him and he watched her watch him, letting her pick him apart and make him vulnerable. She had never wanted something so much as she wanted him. 

She wanted to be selfish. 

“Let’s get something straight,” she said and Silverhand raised a brow expectantly. “We do this- you’re mine and only mine. I’m not good at sharing.”

His gaze turned hot and electricity surged through her veins at the absolute desire in his eyes. He prowled towards her, eyes on her like a sniper’s sight, then leaned over her and caged her in against the couch.

“I’ve never been good at sharing either,” he rumbled, voice deep and husky, “never wanted anyone as much as I want you, V.”

“You agree to this, Johnny, and there is no one else,” she warned, voice barely above a whisper and dripping with want. “No one else but me.”

He grinned and ducked his head so their lips were inches apart. “No one else,” he breathed.

“You want to be only mine?” She dragged her fingertips up the underside of his arm from his wrist to collarbone leaving goosebumps in their wake. “Want to scream only my name? Chant it like a prayer? Sing it for me?”

A wounded noise punched out of him, eyes darkening as they dragged down her body in a scorching trail.

“I’ll sing for you whenever you ask. Only you V,” he promised- wrecked, “Wanna worship you.”

V touched her fingertips to the side of his neck featherlight on his pulse point. His heart was drumming a rock song.

“Then worship me,” she commanded and he surged forward and devoured her. 

His eyes drank her in like holy wine, trailing his metal fingertips down her body. V gasped. He knew what he was doing.

“Silverhand-!”

“It’s Johnny,” he said, voice breathless. 

V peeled her eyes open to meet his burning gaze.

“Wha-what?” She stammered, voice already wrecked.

His fingers caressed her thigh like a ritual. “Wanna hear you say my name.” 

She bit her lip. 

“Say it,” he demanded.

“Beg me,” she ordered and his pupils blew wide as he sucked in a harsh breath.

“Please,” he whispered into her skin.

She groaned then leaned forward and traced his face gently, running her thumb over his lip. 

“Johnny,” she breathed. He growled possessively.

She titled his face up towards her by his chin and smiled, feeling beautifully selfish. “Make me chant your name.”

The sound that left him was going to be her addiction- chasing after that for the rest of her life- and he moved to obey her. V let him worship her and she chanted his name over and over like was the only prayer she knew.

  


  


—

  


  


They didn’t advertise they had gotten together but they didn’t hide it either. Bull would let Johnny in the door whenever he showed up and Esk always waved him into her private booth in the back rooms. Xinyi knew to bring a bottle of top-shelf tequila and leave the ingredients to let Johnny make the two of them his signature cocktail throughout the night. 

She’d show up at his shows, always in disguise because she couldn’t get away from her legend for a damn night, and the bouncers always let her in the back door and into Johnny’s dressing room. He’d smile when he saw her waiting for him- eyes so full of an emotion she was not sure she wanted to name. 

Not yet. Not when they were still learning the other.

But Johnny made it difficult to not fall in love with him and be swept up in him like the solar-flare he was. V found herself slipping further into him each time they were together, looking for that nameless but sun-bright emotion in his eyes whenever he looked at her. 

  


  


—

  


  


  


They fell into a routine, becoming a central part in each other’s orbits, coming together like two comets on the same path. It was like nothing V had experienced before. There was passion and sparks and a connection that lit her from the inside and made her want to warm herself with whatever it was they had together. 

Within a week Johnny started spending most his free time with her and she with him. Within a month he’d become a regular fixture in her house- a penthouse in the center of the city that she loved -and more often than not he would stay the night with her. Tangled up together for hours, whispering promises into each other’s skin. She’d wake up next to him and just look at his peaceful face marveling at how lucky she’d gotten.

V leaned against the door frame, taking her time to watch Johnny and soak him in. He sat on her couch, plucking at the strings of his new axe- the one she bought for him a few days ago -looking like he belonged in an art gallery. He was her greatest weakness and the singularity of all the good things that had happened in her life.

Johnny caught sight of her and smirked, knowing she had been watching him. She smirked back and sauntered up to him. 

“How’s the axe?” she asked, looking down at him and he tilted his head back to grin lazily at her.

“Fucking preem. Never had one this good.”

“Glad you like it.” She set their drinks on the coffee table. “Want anything else? Saw you eying that ARCH bike the other day.”

Johnny huffed. “Not sure how I feel about having a sugar mama,” he mused.

V leaned down so she could kiss him deeply, threading her fingers through his hair to pull it just enough to tease. She pulled back enough to smile at him, trailing her fingers down his neck resting them in the hollow of his throat.

“Just let me spoil you. Makes me happy.”

He gave her a look then rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

She pecked on the lips and sat down next to him, cuddling up to his side, but not in the way so he could keep playing. 

“Ker’s been getting suspicious though,” Johnny said, “Keeps Asking questions.”

“What do you tell him?” V asked, curious. She didn’t care one way or the other what Johnny told his best friend. 

Johnny strummed a cord, looking irritated at whatever noise it failed to make. He fiddled with the tuning spokes. 

“Told him none of his business.” 

She huffed, amused. “He listen?”

“Nope. Decided to make himself even more of a pain in the ass.”

“Do you want to tell him?”

That got Johnny’s attention. He stopped fiddling and looked at her, searching for something that only he knew he was looking for.

“Would you want me to?” he asked.

She shrugged. “We aren’t hiding. You wanna brag to your best friend go ahead.”

One side of his mouth ticked up in a smirk. “Want me to brag about you?”

“Want you to do what you want Johnny,” she hummed, sipping her rum. Sometimes she liked to switch her drinks around. Tonight she was drinking rum and Nicola and he was drinking his same tequila old-fashioned.

His smirk was filthy. “Whatever I want?”

V snorted seeing where his brain had gone but being one hundred percent on-board with it as he put his axe down and moved to crawl on top of her. 

He was a thing of beauty she never wanted to let go.

  


  


—

  


  


  


V was in her booth with her court, enjoying a night off. She was a little tipsy, on her third drink of the night, and feeling great. The conversation kept jumping around a few subjects: work, stories of being bad-asses and fucking. Currently, they had circled back around to who they wanted to fuck or who they were curious about fucking.

“What about that one guy that was here a while ago?” Dorian asked, slurring his words, one too many drinks in.

“Which guy?” V humored him. 

“Rockerboy with the silver arm. Whats-his-name?”

“Ooooo, Johnny Silverhand,” Katsue purred and V’s stomach clenched.

“Why?” MacCready piped up, “He’s nothing special. Just a gonk rockerboy.”

Katsue got a dirty smirk on her face. “Heard he’s got a special talent. Something about his tongue.” 

V bit back a comment. This was all hypothetical. Just a bunch of friends shooting the shit. No reason for her to get jealous.

Except Dorian decided to keep going.

“He’s got a reputation.” Dorian tossed back the rest of his drink and immediately called for another one which V quickly canceled out with a signal to the bar. “Had to have earned that somehow. Think he knows how to work an ass like he works a pussy?”

“Don’t doubt it,” Katsue giggled. “I’m gonna give him a call.”

That got V to sit up straight, stone-cold sober. 

“How’d you get his number?” she asked sharply. Shep and MacCready looked at her oddly. Katsue remained oblivious to V’s sudden hostility but V saw Liliana bite her lips in an ‘oh-shit’ way. Of course, the netrunner would be the one to give Katsue Johnny’s number.

“Did a little digging,” Katsue said flippantly as she pulled her holo out, “Been thinking about that delicious ass of his for a while now.”

“You calling him right now?” MacCready asked incredulously. His eyes flicked towards V, sensing the mood. There was a reason he was one of the top solos in Night City.

Katsue licked her teeth with a wide grin. “Lookin’ to get me some preem cock tonight.”

“Didn’t he play a private show for V a few months ago?” Siian butted in, eyes cutting to V. Trying to warn Katsue she was about to make a mistake. Siian had known Johnny was V’s output almost as long as they had been together.

“Uh huh.” Katsue grinned like a joytoy. “Been the star in my private brain-dances since. Think it’s time to make that a reality.”

V had enough. “Don’t call him,” she ordered.

“Why not?” V’s jealous face just egged Katsue on. “Oh! You can come too if you want. I’m sure the guy can handle two pussy’s at once.”

“Back off Katsue,” she warned through her teeth. 

“What? What’s the problem?”

V didn’t answer, too angry to unclench her jaw and form words. 

Katsue’s joytoy grin turned into a leer. “Ohhh! You’re actually interested in the rockerboy? More than a fuck? What’s it about him? The long legs? Dark hair? Heard some juicy rumors about those metal fingers of his—“

V’s saw red. “Shut the fuck up or I’ll make you,” V snarled, nostrils flaring.

Katsue’s mouth shut with an audible click. The hush that dropped over the booth was tangible. No one dared break it. V lit up a stick with shaky hands, heartbeat thrumming so hard it pulsed in her fingers. She hadn’t been joking with Johnny when she said she didn’t share. She was a possessive bitch and damn anyone who tried to take what she saw as hers. And Johnny was the one thing she’d never give up. Not unless he wanted her to.

V took a long drag, closing her eyes for the wave of the high that would save Katsue’s face from her fist, and let it out in a steady breath.

“Listen,” she ordered and every single one of them sat just that much straighter, “Johnny Silverhand is off-limits. No one touches him. No one fucks with him. If he gets harmed I’m holding every one of you responsible.” 

She slowly moved her gaze across the booth, making eye contact with her group that made up the highest profile netrunners, solos and fixers in NC, waiting for them to nod in agreement before moving onto the next one. V leaned back and downed Johnny’s signature drink. Around her, the conversation slowly started up again when they realized she wasn’t going to make any more decrees.

She’d just made Johnny the most untouchable man in Night City. In a few hours every fixer, every solo, every big-time ganger, and every netrunner in the city would know he had the favor of The Chevalier. V hadn’t intended to make their relationship public like that. Not in such a dramatic fashion but she’d deal with it. Besides, with his reputation for finding trouble in a flower field, she didn’t trust anything besides a citywide “Off-Limits” ban on him to keep him this side of the grave.

She wanted one thing in life now: to keep him alive and keep him safe. 

She would burn down the world for him.

He didn’t need to know that though.

Not yet.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!  
> **V's handle is pronounced [shuh-val-yey]**


	3. Never Fade Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friend asked me for a SFW version of my fic so I edited out the more jalapeno bits. Enjoy!
> 
> Thank you all for reading this! I love this couple so much and that fact ya'll seem to love this particular dynamic and the story I crafted means a lot to me! <3 <3 <3 Those of you who commented and left Kudos, I appreciate you so much! I have ideas for a few one-shots in this story world that I may write if people are interested.
> 
> Thank you again to Ravenstrange and Ruruie for writing their own amazing stories and inspiring me to write and post it after years of a dry spell.
> 
> I have another Johnny/V (older woman/younger man) work that I will be publishing soon! I started it BEFORE this one so there are some similarities! It's a long one that is a fix-it of the canon. :D

When Bull refused to let him back into the bar after The Chevalier threw him out, Johnny hadn’t known what the fuck to do. So he did what he was the best at: drowned himself in booze and drugs. It worked for a few days before Rogue dragged him out on a gig of hers and he had to stay sober for the whole thing. Afterward, when he still couldn’t shake the burning flame V had started in his gut when she sang his songs in her sweet voice, he went right back to drinking. 

Kerry was the one who got him to stop feeling sorry for himself and do something about it. He’d helped Johnny come up with a plan. It was a shit plan but it was a plan: be persistent. Johnny could do that. He was a stubborn asshole. Nothing came from it though. Bull still wouldn’t let him in and he had been showing every few days for two months.

He was sulking outside Haven, having a smoke after Bull turned him away again, filling his lungs with tar and tainted high when someone yelled his name. Johnny recognized the guy- one of the Chevalier’s people that sat next to her. He was headed Johnny’s way, cigarette dangling from his lips.

“Hey, Silverhand right?” the guy greeted. “Shep.”

Johnny nodded his head in acknowledgment. 

Shep stood by him, close enough for conversation but not enough to be in Johnny’s space and they smoked in silence for a while. Shep broke it first. 

“So, been seeing you hanging around every couple of days.”

Johnny crossed his arms. He didn’t want to talk to this guy about the gonked feelings that were making him crazy.

“You trying to talk to V?” Shep asked.

“V?” Johnny raised a brow.

Shep nodded, taking a long drag and letting out the smoke in a billowing cloud. 

“Yeah. The Chevalier’s real name. It’s V.”

V. Simple enough name for a complicated woman with the city at her fingertips. Almost poetic. Johnny stuck his thumbs in his pockets. 

“Been trying to talk to her but can’t get past the door.”

Shep chuckled. “Yeah, Bull and Esk are pretty protective of her.”

“Too fucking protective,” Johnny grumbled.

“What are you wanting to talk to her about?”

Johnny huffed. “Thought maybe she’d like to see my show.”

“She turned you down the last few times?”

“How’d you know?”

Shep shrugged, fishing out another smoke. He offered one to Johnny and Johnny accepted. Not his usual brand but still a good one. Not as good as V’s O2Sticks. Not by a long shot.

“Heard Bull and Esk talking about you. Look, Johnny, gonna give you some advice,” Shep said between puffs. “Heard how you asked. Kind of like an asshole. Can’t ask someone like V, the fucking Queen of Mercs, to a show like she’s one of your groupies.”

Johnny bristled. “Then how the fuck do I ask her?” 

Shep gave him a disappointed look and Johnny wanted to punch him. “Try inviting her again and make it intentional this time. Put some thought into it. Maybe write it on one of your fliers or something.”

Johnny rolled his eyes. “Haven’t used fliers in years.”

“Even better,” Shep said, “Print her one. Write a nice little invite and give it to her.”

Johnny side-eyed him. “Think that’ll work?”

Shep nodded, looking pleased. “Oh yeah. She likes knowing people put in the effort for her.”

Johnny snorted but he was already thinking of who he would need to contact to get a flier printed. 

He glanced at Shep. “…Thanks”

Shep beamed. “No problem, choom.”

Johnny shot Kerry a text, hoping Kerry could help him design the flier. Maybe help write the invite too. Johnny was good at song lyrics but regular stuff? Not his wheelhouse.

  


  


  


—

  


  


  


It worked.

  


  


  


—

  


  


  


Johnny was over the fucking moon with feelings he couldn't name. V was everything he’d thought she’d be and more. She could keep up with him in every way and outdo him in others. His equal and his challenger.

He was unable to keep the stupid grin off his face when V walked out of the house. She was in the sexiest swimsuit he’d ever fucking’ seen; made even sexier ‘cause he knew she’d bought it to show off for him and he was the only one who’d ever see her in it. 

The only one to rip it off her too.

“Looking good V,” he called.

She tossed a smirk at him then slipped into the pool, tits bouncing, before diving under the water. Johnny watched her barely covered ass crest out of the water as she dove, enjoying the view.

He’d gotten so damn lucky.

  


  


  


—

  


  


  


The last few weeks had been busy as fuck for Johnny. He and Kerry had teamed up for a two-man tour around the NUSA, playing Samurai songs and the singles they’d put out after the band broke up. Kerry was starting to make waves as a solo artist, going his own way at Johnny’s insistence, but nothing beat playing on a stage with his best choom.

Except maybe making V scream his name.

Johnny made it back home late that night. So late that V had fallen asleep on the couch trying to wait up for him, curled up next to her pile of work tablets and shards. He carried her to bed and crawled in next to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close to breathe her in. 

He had missed her. A lot. More than he thought he would have. She’d somehow become a holy relic in his life without her even trying. He wanted to spend hours whispering praises into her skin, exploring her body reverently like she was an object of his devotion.

The next morning he showed her just how much he missed her.

After she left for Haven, he called Kerry then headed to the Watson fight-ring. Johnny had an itch under his skin he needed to scratch and Kerry was always up for tagging along. He liked hanging around the rings and watching the fighters go at it.

Safest place to do that was the fight-rings around the city. He’d been getting better at fighting and even had some new moves that he’d picked up from Esk when the guy finally gave into Johnny’s pestering to tussle with him. Johnny had taken to doing some brawling in his off time between shows and had made a name for himself; calling himself Samurai. Kerry’s idea of a joke. He’d been the one to tell the first bookie Johnny’s handle and after he’d won the name stuck. 

When Johnny stepped into the ring, the brawler got a scared wide-eyed look. Johnny put his hands on his hips, raising a brow over V’s aviators he’d taken to wearing. The brawler looked frantically at the bookie. 

“You want me to fucking die? Not fighting him!” he spat out, holding his hands up like he was surrendering.

“Damn Johnny,” Kerry whistled, “Guy’s fucking terrified of you.”

Johnny smirked smugly, feeling his ego get a few size bigger at the fact his reputation had made it to even the street brawlers. 

The bookie crossed his arms glaring a hole through the brawler. “What the fucks’ the problem? This isn't a death match.”

The brawler left the ring, physically getting as far from Johnny as possible. “Naw choom, that’s the fucking Chevalier’s man.”

The smirk dropped off Johnny's face.

Kerry cut a glance at him. “Thought you weren't public?” he whispered. Kerry was the only person he’d told about V and him. The only one who he let hear the sappy-as-fuck song he was writing her.

“We’re not,” Johnny hissed, crossing his arms. A hard rock of something dropped into his gut. The feeling got worse when the bookies head snapped towards Johnny eyes bulging out of his skull.

“You’re Johnny Silverhand? Fuck!” The bookie walked into the middle of the ring waving his arms like a ref calling a fight. “Fight’s off! Fights off!”

“What the fuck?” Johnny yelled. He stalked towards the bookie, Kerry trailing behind him.

“Why the fucks’ the fight off?” Kerry yelled, backing him up.

The bookie spun towards them, finger in Johnny’s face and Johnny jerked back to keep from getting smacked. 

“Because you’re Johnny Silverhand!”

Johnny growled and pissed at the fucking finger in his face.

“Johnny! Wait! Fuck man wait!” Kerry grabbed the back of his shirt stopping him from grabbing at the bookie.

The bookie jumped out of Johnny’s swinging range and was watching him warily. Johnny shook Kerry off, who reluctantly let him go, ready to grab him again if needed. He came up next to Johnny, crossing his arms and glaring at the bookie who looked about ready to cut and run.

“What’s him being Johnny Silverhand have anything to do with the fight?” Kerry asked the bookie, being the logical voice that Johnny didn’t have right then.

The bookies’ eyes danced between them. “Got everything to do with it.” He pointed at Johnny, again, and Johnny fought the urge to break the guys’ finger. “Silverhand has an off-limits tag on him.”

“What?” — “The fucks that mean?” Kerry and Johnny asked at the same time.

The bookie crossed his arm defensively but didn’t look like he was about to piss himself anymore. If anything the guy looked ready to physically throw Johnny out of the ring himself.

“Means the Chevalier will kick my ass if you get hurt. You're the Chevalier’s man. The fucking Queen of Mercs is your output. I’m not touching you. Not about to risk it.”

Johnny looked at Kerry who shrugged helplessly at him. 

The bookie made an irritated noise. “All I know is that a few weeks ago my fixer told me that a guy named Johnny Silverhand was off-limits and that I couldn’t let him fight. Said if I did and he got hurt the Chevalier would zero our asses.” He shook his head. “I’m not risking it choom. Now,” he pointed towards the ring exit, “get out of my ring before someone starts a rumor and I still get zeroed.”

Johnny wanted to punch the guy in his face but Kerry tugged at his arm. 

“C’mon Johnny.”

Johnny reluctantly let him lead him off out of the ring. Kerry took them over to the side of the building and they leaned against the metal walls, staying out the sight while Johnny calmed down.

“V put a no-touch rule on you?” Kerry asked.

“Guess so,” Johnny sulked, angrily pulling out an O2Stick from his back pocket. Kerry snatched one from his pack and they lit up, sucking in the high in silence.

“Gonna talk to her?” Kerry asked eventually.

Johnny grunted. “Oh gonna do more than that.”

Kerry side-eyed him. “Don’t fuck this up, Johnny. Told me yourself you like her too much to ruin it.”

Johnny crossed his arms, chewing on the end of the stick. Kerry was right but damn he was pissed. And sort of turned-on. She’d made a public claim on him, letting the whole damn city know he was hers and that lit a fire in his gut like nothing before. He threw the half-smoked stick down and ground it out with the heel of his boot.

“Just gonna talk to her — don’t look at me that way Ker, I’m serious — just gonna find out what the fuck she was thinking.”

“Sure Johnny,” Kerry said with an unconvinced shrug. “Like I said: don’t fuck this up.”

  


  


  


—

  


  


  


Johnny stormed into Haven not giving a fuck that it was a night that V would be holding court with her group. He had gotten revved right back from annoyed to fucking pissed after he left Kerry. 

On his way to Haven, he got caught up in a street fight and had been having a blast in until one of the gangers noticed who he was. The guy had squealed like a damn pig and yelled “it’s the Chevalier’s man” and that was that. Actual gangers scurried away from him so fast it left his head spinning.

Bull let him inside with a shit-eating grin. “Found out about the ban?”

Johnny flipped him off and Bull’s laugher followed him into the club. Esk saw him first, watching his warpath with an unimpressed face. He stepped in front of Johnny, blocking him from flying right into the booth and yelling in V’s face. Johnny glared at him, growling. Esk rolled his eyes.

“Cool down kid,” he ordered.

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do,” Johnny snapped. Esk huffed, not moving

“Johny!” V sounded pleased and Johnny leaned around Esk to see her grinning brightly at him.

He heard Esk sigh then he moved out of his way and Johnny walked into the booth filled with the best of the best in the city. V was sitting right in the middle of them all, looking like the queen she was. Except Johnny was looking for a fight and he wanted to fight the queen.

“Wanna tell me why the fuck the bookies won’t let me brawl?” he asked, not bothering to keep the pissed-off tone out of his voice.

V blinked and then burst out laughing. Johnny put his hands on his hips, glaring at her. 

“This ain’t fucking funny V,” he growled

“It kind of is though,” she howled. He stood there, scowling while her group watched him with various amused expressions. That K-something girl, the netrunner V had working with Rogue a lot, was leering at him like he was a piece of meat. Shep was grinning like a gonk, giving Johnny a small salute with his glass. Guess V had told her little gang about them being an item and he’d missed the memo. 

V finally managed to calm herself down enough to stand. 

“C’mon,” she beckoned for him to follow her out of the booth, still giggling a little. 

He sulked after her, ignoring the chuckles from her court who just watched him pitch a hissy fit over not being able to punch someone.

When they got to their private booth, V had Esk go get them their regular order from the bar, and she took a seat. He crossed his arms, refusing to sit.

She pinched her lips, looking put out at his obstinacy. “Alright… I get the sense you're mad at me.”

“What gave you that idea?” Johnny scowled. He felt like something had been taken from him. 

V’s fingers tapped on the couch anxiously and Johnny felt his anger cooling slightly. He was mad but he didn’t want to ruin what he had with V. 

It was too good to loose.

She opened her mouth to respond but someone knocked on the door. 

“Come in,” she called and Esk came inside and dropped off their drinks. Leaving the ingredients behind like V always asked him to do because she knew Johnny liked mixing them. His anger cooled a little more.

She snatched up her drink and took a few gulps. Johnny didn’t move to pick his up, still too agitated to relax yet. V leaned back into the couch, settling into the pose Johnny had seen her use on clients or mercs. The ones she knew were dangerous and she was trying to keep the situation from escalating. He frowned, irritated at himself now for making her feel that way about him, but he was still pissed and his mouth ran ahead of him like it usually did.

“You put an off-limits tag on me?” he accused.

She raised a brow at him and he raised his right back. Her bare lips twitched up into a dirty grin that shot straight to his dick. He knew that look. He fucking lived for that look.

“That make you uncomfortable Johnny?” V asked in silky voice as she slowly- very, slowly -put her drink on the table, leaning lower than necessary and giving him a fantastic view of her tits. She was wearing the useless but smoking hot harness she’d been in the first time they fucked in his Porsche. The one he had removed with his teeth.

Johnny tore his eyes away, making a not-so-irritated noise. 

“Kind of fucking does.” he said, voice already getting rougher with the desire being injected into his veins. “Cant even get in a regular brawl anymore.”

V prowled towards him, no other word for how she moved, slow and purposefully, burning eyes locked on his. Johnny swallowed hard.

“That a bad thing?” She asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

He didn’t move, making her drape herself over his crossed arms. She licked her teeth with a grin, eyes sparkling because she knew what she was doing to him. Knew he was loosing the battle with his dick. 

“You mad that I claimed you?” she purred, “let the whole city know you’re mine?” Her teeth grazed the column of his throat and his pulse picked up. He tightened his fingers, not willing to give up just yet.

“That bother you Johnny?” she whispered into his ear. She bit his earlobe and he moaned quietly. 

Fuck it. His dick won. They’d talk about it later ‘cause right then he just wanted to sink into her and loose himself in singing her praises.

She made a gesture with her hand and he vaguely heard the door lock, too busy worshiping her to really care.

  


  


  


—

  


  


  


“Why’d you do it?” he asked softly not want to disturb the afterglow between them. They were still in their private booth, laying tangled up in each other on the plush couch but they’d kept on most of their clothes. 

V stilled like she’d been caught and buried her face in his neck. Johnny pet her hair, waiting for whatever internal crisis she was having to pass. Eventually she murmured something. 

“Can’t hear you darlin’,” he chuckled. 

She didn’t look at him but she said it a little louder. Just enough for him to hear. “I was jealous.”

Johnny blinked. “What?”

She pushed herself up with her hands on his chest, pouting at him prettily. “I was jealous, you gonk.” She scrunched up her face. “Told you I don't like sharing.”

Johnny barked out an unexpected laugh. V looked downright offended but he shook his head, gripping her ass and pressing her back into him when she tried to move away. 

“Wait, V. Jealous of what? The whole fucking city?”

She refused to look at him. He hooked his finger beneath her chin and gently made her look at him. 

“What aren’t you telling me?” he murmured. 

Her eyes filled with tears so fast Johnny was stunned. She buried her face into his neck again and he let her. Held her while she didn’t cry tears but shook apart. Finally, after way too long of her hurting alone, she sighed like the whole damn world was too much for her. Johnny’s heart ached.

“V, if there’s anything I can do-”

He felt her shake her head. 

“No, Johnny. I just-” She choked off.

“Hey, c’mon,” Johnny coaxed and moved them so they were sitting on the couch and she was tucked up under his arm, right next to his heart where she belonged.

“I didn’t mean to ruin your fun.” She picked at her jeans. “Didn’t realize how serious people would take me.”

A snort of disbelief escaped him before he could stop himself. 

“V. You're the fucking Chevalier. People take your word as law.”

“You don’t have to tell me that Johnny,” she snapped, “I say jump and people ask how fucking high. I don't- I forget-” V made a frustrated noise. “I still don’t know what to do with all this.”

Johnny didn’t say anything. He knew she was getting at something that was bothering her, deeply by her reaction, and he didn’t want to mess it up. So instead, he dragged his fingers over the strip of bare skin between her jeans and her shirt hoping that it was comforting her. Even a little.

“Before I was the Chevalier, I was some nomad gonk turned merc. Had to survive this city somehow and shooting things was something I was good at.” She confessed like it was a sin she’d been carrying for decades. “I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing and just stumbled my way job to job trying to make eddies. After this big gig where I saved a lot of lives, I realized people started calling me the Chevalier. Then I started getting all the best jobs. Somehow, I got to the top and next thing I knew I’m the ‘queen of mercs’ and I had the best in the city asking me for permission to do shit. Stopped being able to go out without someone knowing my face.”

She turned her head to look at him. “Had to stop going to your shows.”

Johnny made a noncommittal noise. He knew what she was talking about. He’d risen to fame pretty quick and people knew his face everywhere he went. It used to be an amazing feeling but eventually it just got tiring. He squeezed her to his chest. She nuzzled at his neck. 

“I’m a selfish person Johnny. Had too much taken from me. Now I have a lot I don’t need or want. But the few things I do want- I don’t want to share. I didn’t want to share you. Not with this city and not with death.”

Johnny bit his lip, feeling an ache in his chest that he’d had since V had given him a second chance. He wanted to do right by her. He kissed the top of her head. 

“Not gonna loose me to death,” he murmured into her hair. “Got too much that I want. Things I don’t want to share either.”

V stayed quiet but Johnny could tell something was still on her mind.

“That why you set the ban?” he prompted gently.

“I’m just- I don’t want to lose you,” she said desperately, hands clutching at his shirt. Throwing her arms around him, She buried her face into his neck. “I’m going to keep you safe.” She whispered it into his skin like a vow.

Johnny’s breath hitched. His fingers tightened on her body as if he could pull her any closer to him. Meld her with him. Keep her with him so she’d never have to lose him.

So he’d never lose her.

Johnny pulled her into his lap and she went easily. He kissed her forehead and cradled her against him. He knew that if he had the power she did he would have told he entire world she was off limits. That no one could touch her. That no one could harm her or he would bring hell right to their door. Bomb them out of existence; consequences be damned.

He’d burn the city down for her if anything happened to her. Knowing she felt the same about him...damn, it made his heart hurt in a way he didn’t know it could.

V huffed suddenly, pouting. “And Katsue was planning on giving you a booty call.”

Johnny barked out a laugh. “What? When was this?”

“A few weeks ago?”

Johnny bent around so he could look at her embarrassed face. “You’re telling me you were jealous of your choom- who didn’t know you’re my output -and told the whole city to back off because she wanted to suck my cock?”

V sulked.

Johnny shook his head, deeply amused. “You weren’t kidding that you’re a jealous bitch.”

“She invited me to a threesome!” She whined, flipping around to poke him in the chest. “Like I was the third wheel!”

Johnny grabbed her wrist in his metal hand. 

“Threesomes can be fun,” he leered.

V rolled her eyes at him. “Think the only one I’d be okay having a threesome with is Kerry.”

Johnny tilted his head suddenly considering the merits of that arrangement. V smacked at his chest with her free hand.

“No Johnny! Not happening.”

“Hey! You’re the one who brought it up.”

  


  


  


—

  


  


  


He knew he was in deep. 

He’d fallen for her the moment he saw her walking out into the bullet spray like they would bow to her like the queen she was. There wasn’t a day that he woke up next to her that he didn’t feel a stupid rush of relief that she was there with him. 

He kept thinking to himself how damn lucky he was and how he never wanted what he had with her to fade away. He wanted to hold onto that feeling. Hold onto the flame she’d lit inside him that consumed his hate.

She’d been doing that slowly. Making him into a better person just by being with him. He wanted to do right by her. Wanted to be better for her. Be someone worthy of the trust she’d given him. 

Johnny took a long drag from his O2Stick, watching the chaos of Night City pass him by, far below V’s penthouse. They’d talked about moving to North Oak at some point. In the future. When she was retired and not needing to be near Haven as much. Maybe pass the mantel of Queen to Rogue. V had taken a liking to her and Rogue was quickly becoming a force in Night City. One of the best. Besides, he could be a rockerboy from anywhere. He was content to follow V around wherever she wanted to go.

He wanted to show her how much he wanted to stay with her. That he knew they had something more than sex and an easy existence around the other. She deserved to know he was serious and that when he praised everything she was into the dark, all tangled up in silk sheets and sweat, he meant every word like it was his religion. Their bedroom was his cathedral and she was his object of devotion. 

He knew she didn’t want empty gestures but, damn, he might be the kind of sap that needed them. 

Johnny heard V clear her throat behind him- the only person it could be- and he turned around, leaning back against the railing to smile at her. It fell and a worried knot twisted up his guts when he saw her face. She looked hesitant. Nervous. Made Johnny’s heart hurt whenever she looked that way around him. 

He held his hand out to her and she went to him. He pulled her into his arms and she rested her head on his chest, hand over his heart and he knew she was listening to his heartbeat. Like she did at night when they were folded up into each other before they fell asleep; their two heartbeats their private song. 

“What’s bothering you V?” he asked.

She pulled back to look at him. He could feel the love-drunk smile on his face when her hands cupped his face. She took him apart with her eyes, running her thumbs lovingly over his cheeks.

“I want to give you something,” she murmured.

The knot loosened a bit. He smiled lazily. “That all?”

She smiled softly and Johnny fell for her just a bit more. He wanted to write his praises into her skin, treat her like she was something holy and chant her name as his prayers.

V pulled something from beneath her shirt and held it up between them so he could look at it. It was a pendant necklace. A crudely made wire thing but it looked worn from rubbing against skin and fabric for a long time. In the middle of the circle pendant was a bullet secured tightly with wrapped wire.

“This is the bullet my ripperdoc dug out of my chest the night I met you.”

Johnny's eyes snapped to hers, then flickered between her and the bullet. She held it in her hand, looking down at it with a loving expression. He swallowed hard, forcing his words out. 

“You got shot?”

She nodded. “Walked into a rain of bullets for you. One caught me in the shoulder.” She beamed up at him. “I didn’t even notice till Esk said something. Was too worried about you.”

Johny made a wounded noise. “V, you barely knew me back then.”

She gave a small shrug. “Just…I saw you, bleeding and hurting, and I just knew I couldn’t let you flatline. Want you to have this,” she said slipping it off her over her head.

Johnny choked, eyes getting wet, and he ducked his head to let her slip it onto him. The warm metal rested against his skin like a brand.

It felt right.

“Wanna give you something too,” he murmured and pulled his dog-tags out from beneath his shirt- the ones he’d carried like a burden since he deserted the pointless corpo war- and held them up to her, dangling it between them.

V’s eyes went wide, reading his name imprinted into the old metal. She reached up and held them between her fingertips like they were something precious. He slipped the chain over her neck, dragging his hand down her chest to rest on top of the tags where they laid between her breasts.

“Don't got much to offer you that you don’t already have V,” he said, voice thick with emotions he didn’t have a name for until this moment, “but I want to give you what I have. And I all I got is me.”

She reached up and cupped his face and he let her pull him into her for a tender kiss like he was something worthy of adoration. It was the kind of kiss he only got from her. The kind he didn’t want from anyone else.

“That’s all I need Johnny,” she murmured and he fell completely into her, letting her baptize him in her love. 

  


  


  


  


  


—

  


  


  


Johnny woke up in the soft bed- softer than anything he’d had in his life -and blinked groggily at the clock. V’s pendant sat on the side table next to his gun. The two constants in his life. He turned over and that familiar sense of relief flooded into him at the sight of V laying there, still asleep and ethereal.

He kissed her cheek, waking her up sweetly as he’d done for the last few years. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled at him, love drunk, and Johnny smiled back just as drunk as she was.

“Hey,” he breathed, “good morning.”

“Mhm. Morning,” she muttered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

He kissed her on the nose and got out of the bed, grabbing her pendent and slipping it on.

“Taking a shower,” he let her know. She waved a limp arm in answer and he chuckled.

In the shower, Johnny let the water cascade down his back, wetting his long hair and making his stick to his neck. It was past his shoulders now. Long enough he had started tying it back. V loved to take his hair down when he was straddling her and it could fall in her face. He liked doing the same with hers. Maybe they both had an odd fascination with each other’s hair.

The bathroom door opened and V joined him, sliding up next to him and playfully nudging him out of the shower spray. Johnny chuckled and wrapped her up in a wet hug, innocent and sweet. She pecked him on the lips before turning to her task of their morning rituals to get ready for the day.

V was done before him, drying off with one of her stupidly fluffy towels that she knew he loved and left him to finish washing the conditioner out of his hair. He always took longer than she did. 

When he got downstairs she was leaning against the counter, dressed for a gig. Wearing his Samurai jacket. Memories of her over him in nothing but his jacket, fingers gripping his shoulders like a lifeline flashed through his mind and he bit his lip. That jacket had a lot of secrets it could tell.

V was near the coffee machine, holding a hot cup of the ‘ganic stuff. She found it hilarious that he had become a coffee snob. He couldn’t stand the synth stuff anymore and only liked the way she made it. Kerry always got pissy with him when he complained about the shit stuff they got on tour but it was always without any heat. Kerry liked the way V made coffee just as much ad Johnny did.

V smiled sweetly at him over the rim of her mug, eyes dancing.

“What’s your plan for the day?” He asked, grabbing his cup from under the machine.

She sighed dramatically. “Got a big job. Gonna meet the client and go over the details.”

“So, full day?” 

“Unfortunately. Feel free to come by later. Could use the distraction.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he grinned, knowing the kind of ‘distraction’ she wanted him to be. Their private booth in the back had been converted to a living space for them a while ago due to V sometimes needing to stay at Haven for a few nights while a big gig was on. During one gig, Johnny had gotten tired of waking up alone after a solid week of her being gone and ended up camped out at Haven the rest of the duration of the gig. It was different than when he was on tour. That kind of separation was necessary because of the distance but he hadn’t seen why he should suffer the loneliness when she was a twenty-minute drive away.

So he’d stayed in their private room for a few days and after the gig wrapped he suggested that they make themselves a small living space at Haven. V liked the idea and had several of the private rooms converted to a little one-room apartment for them to stay in when going back home was too much effort or a waste of time. Sometimes they used it during work hours for not-so-work-appropriate things. It was a good thing V had kept it soundproof or Haven would have heard very clearly what they got up to sometimes. Not that he cared too much but he imagined V didn’t want her underlings to be unwilling witnesses.

Johnny followed her out to the veranda, leaning against the glass railing while she smoked on a stick and he finished his coffee.

“Not going to be a difficult job right?” he asked, worry gnawing at him.

She made a noncommittal noise.

Johnny frowned. “V? What aren’t you telling me?”

She glanced at him from the corner of her eye and then sighed, giving in to whatever internal struggle she had been having.

“Not sure,” she said, “it’s something having to do with this super-advanced AI. The woman that developed it contacted me. Said Arasaka is looking to get their hands on it and needs help destroying it.”

Johnny grunted. “Don’t like that at all, V.”

V shifted her weight, looking up at the sky. “I know. Not looking for an all-out fight with the corpos. But hey, maybe this is the key to their downfall right?”

Johnny shook his head, moving to pull her into him and taking her hand in his. He kissed her palm, looking at her through hooded eyes.

“Not if the cost is you, V. Not willing to pay that price.”

V bit her lip, glancing way then leaning into him like he was her armor. He folded her into him, shielding her from the world for a few moments.

“Don’t wanna lose you,” he confessed. “Wanna keep you safe.”

It was his way of renewing his vow to her. Words he said to her every time she took on a big gig.

“Not gonna lose me, Johnny,” she promised. “Won’t take the job if it’s too big a risk. Promise.”

He kissed her forehead. “Good.”

Her private AV came flying by, setting down on the landing pad in the front yard. She gave him a peck on the lips then untangled herself from him and he reluctantly let her go.

“After this job, maybe I’ll retire,” she joked with a smile. “You never know.”

He laughed. “Yeah and I’ll stop being a rocker.”

He walked her to the AV, stopping her before she climbed in, and pulled her into a passionate kiss. She melted into him, slotting into his heart perfectly.

He felt complete.

She was the one thing he wanted in life. The missing thing he’d been chasing after for years since he lost himself in the corpo war. A shell of who he had been, becoming a metal soul made from rage and fear.

She’d changed him for the better and she was the one thing he’d ever let go of.

V loved him as brightly and deeply as he loved her. A passion that he had written in song and sung on stage.

Their love was one for the ages and it would never fade away.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **V's handle is pronounced [shuh-val-yey]**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> **V's handle is pronounced [shuh-val-yey]**


End file.
